Discoveries
by thewintersorceress17
Summary: Steve finds Bucky at the Smithsonian, but he's not exactly in the mood to talk. Stucky angst, one shot.


Bucky stood silently as he stared at the Smithsonian exhibit in front of him. He'd come here looking for answers but now he was starting to doubt he would ever find them. He read the words over and over again in his mind, still unsure of what they meant. The man in the picture was not _him_. He had the same face; the same stubborn set of his jaw and the same eyes… but it wasn't _him_. He stared at the eyes of the picture and then focused on his reflection in the glass. They weren't the same, he realized after a moment. They weren't the same, because the eyes of the man in the picture held hope.

He sighed and shook his head. What was he doing? He wasn't going to figure out who he was, or the things he had done by staring at some exhibit in a museum. He turned away, about to move towards the exit, only to find his path blocked by a tall, blond man.

"Bucky." He said.

Bucky didn't move or say a word. For the first time in a long time, Bucky didn't know what he was supposed to do. There were no orders to be followed, no mission to carry out.

"We need to talk, Buck." The man said.

"That's not my name." Bucky said eventually, angry with himself but also with this stranger who acted like he knew him.

"Yes it is. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You've known me since we were kids, Buck. You _know_ me. I know you do." The man stared at Bucky with hard eyes – hard, and somehow _familiar_ eyes. It _angered _him how familiar this stranger seemed. With HYDRA there had always been a reason Bucky didn't know things, but now there was no reason. He should've been able to remember who this man was, but he couldn't.

"Who _are_ you?" He demanded, ignoring the statement.

"Steve Rogers." For some reason he felt a tug in his chest at the name. He didn't understand it. He didn't understand _anything_.

"Get out of my way, Steve." He tried to shove past the man but he grabbed Bucky's arm to stop him, "Let go of me or-"

"You'll what? Attack me? You're not going to attack me, not here. You're too smart for that."

"You don't know what I am." Neither did he, if he was honest with himself.

"I remember who you were, and I know that person's in there somewhere. I want to help you Buck. Let me."

Bucky stared at Steve for a moment and then pulled free, moving past him and walking with a fast pace toward the door. Steve was taller than him and kept pace with him easily.

"Don't run away from me Bucky, I'm trying to help you. We all need help sometimes." His voice was kind but there was something about it that put Bucky on edge. No one was that kind. That was one of the things that HYDRA had taught him.

"Why? _Why _are you helping me? What are you _getting_ out of this?" He turned on Steve and glared at him with an icy gaze, clenching his jaw. Their faces were only inches apart. It took Steve by surprise, but he didn't step back.

"Not everyone needs a reason to help other people, Buck." Steve said.

"You're lying."

"Not everyone's like the people you worked for in HYDRA."

"Ha. Sure."

"Just talk to me Bucky." The blond man looked pained and angry, "Look, I spent the last year and a half thinking you were dead. I had no idea that you survived that fall back in 1943, and if I had I would've come after you. I would've protected you. It _kills me _that I didn't go back for you. That I didn't fall with you. That we never _got_ to the end of the line. That I-"

Bucky didn't know what compelled him to do it but suddenly he found himself reaching out and grabbing Steve's face between his hands and he was kissing him. Their lips mashed together in a way that Bucky never remembered experiencing.

For a moment, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the contact, the warmth of his lips and how their breath mixed. He enjoyed the way Steve subconsciously wrapped his arm around his waist. But then he remembered himself, and shoved away from the taller man roughly. What was he _doing?_

"No, no! I don't – you're – _that wasn't me!_" He backed away, slow at first, but then he turned on his heel and sprinted out the doors and around to the back of the building where the shadows of an alley covered him.

He was breathing heavily, and his heart was hammering so loud that he could hear his pulse in his ears and little else.

_What's happening? Why did I do that? Who am I, _He thought, _who is he? What's_ happening_? _He could hear himself whimpering as each breath came faster and he hated himself for it. He hated the weakness he felt in the deepest parts of himself every time the sound passed his lips. He hated that he didn't have any control. It was like HYDRA was taking over all over again. No, he thought, it was different this time. It was like something else was taking over, and he couldn't think.

"Bucky?" The voice cut through Bucky's thoughts and he looked up to see Steve running towards him, a stupid little crease between his stupid brows.

"Why did I do that?" he shouted, "_Why did I do that?"_

"Bucky just calm down-" Bucky slammed the taller man against the wall of the alley.

"No! No, I want to know who the _hell_ you are and why you're trying to help me!" His breathing had sped up even more and it was like all of the air was being forcibly sucked from his lungs. "I want – I just-"

He was whimpering again. The sound scraped against Bucky's eardrums like fingernails on a chalkboard. Bucky wasn't weak. He _wasn't. _Why couldn't he pull himself together? He didn't understand why he couldn't take control. Bucky released the man from his place against the wall.

"Bucky, it's okay, it's _okay_." Steve tried to soothe the dark haired man, to no avail. Bucky shoved him back when he tried to touch him.

"I can't – I don't-" Bucky continued, unable to stop himself, "_Why can't I just _remember?_"_

Steve grabbed the man by the shoulders, forcing Bucky to look at him.

"You kissed me because you love me!" he shouted, "Okay? Before you fell from that train you loved me! I loved _you! _I still do! And I _know_ that somehow, some way, there's a part of you that still loves me!"

Steve pulled Bucky into a crushing embrace and for a moment he was too shocked to respond, he just stood there unmoving. Something clicked in his brain, not a memory but…the ghost of one, in the same way that he was the ghost of himself. Blond hair covering blue eyes… A skinny arm wrapped around his torso…

Slowly, carefully, Bucky came back to life. He spread his fingers over Steve's back, holding him close, and then he relaxed, leaning his face into Steve's shoulder. He was unsure of himself, but it felt right – felt _familiar._

"Bucky, _I'm sorry._" Steve said against Bucky's neck.

"It's…It's okay?" Bucky answered, not knowing what else he was supposed to say. He didn't know what to do, but he knew Steve was right. It was the only explanation. There was no denying the twisting feeling in his gut. There was _something _there that he felt for Steve, and it might not have been love, but it was there.

"Bucky," Steve pulled back to look the dark haired man in the face, "You know me, one way or another. Please, don't shut me out again. I spent too long thinking you were dead to have you leave me all over again."

Bucky looked into Steve's pale blue eyes, searching for an answer that wasn't there. It was like a repeat of his memories – constantly searching for something that wasn't there.

"I need to _remember._" He said quietly, "I… I need you to help me remember." It was the only way he could ever start to figure himself out. He needed to remember. Steve's face softened into a kind smile.

"Of course I'll help you Buck," he said, "to the end of the line."


End file.
